


That Weight On Your Chest, It’s Crushing Your Heart

by YAdds



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alcolholism, Angst, Endgame Tony/Peter, Jealous Tony Stark, M/M, Obsessive Tony Stark, Peter is in college, Pining Tony Stark, Rhodey Is a Good Bro, Tony-centric, probably, the peter/harry relationship is pretty minor fyi, with a happy ending?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-27 19:48:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16708903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YAdds/pseuds/YAdds
Summary: Tony is used to being Peter’s idol. He didn’t realize how much he craved it until he no longer had it.AKAThe role reversal, where Tony is the one pining.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on tumblr.

The first time it happened, Tony was halfway convinced that it was a bizarre dream. 

“Hey kid,” Tony started, leaning back in his chair and throwing a ball up in the air. 

“Oh! Mr. Stark!” Peter exclaimed, sounding surprised. 

“Uh yup, that’d be me. Were you expecting someone else?” He asked dryly.

“Ah, actually, yes. Can I call you back?” Peter rushed out before promptly hanging up. 

Tony stared at the screen in front of him, barely flinching when the ball he’d just thrown came back down to smack him in the shoulder. “Did he just hang up on me?” He questioned disbelievingly, eyebrows sky high and pointing an accusing finger at the screen. 

“Yes, sir. Mr. Parker has disconnected the call,” FRIDAY answered. 

Tony rolled his eyes and sent the ceiling a withering glare. “Thanks for your wonderful input,” he muttered.

When Peter called back several hours later, Tony waited for it to go to voicemail. There, now  _ he  _ was busy. Little shit. 

He took some satisfaction out of knowing that he would at least have a rambling, stupidly apologetic message waiting for him to soothe his bruised ego. Petty? Tony Stark? Never. 

After forcing himself to continue working on his current nanotech project for another hour, he finally let himself listen to Peter’s message.

“FRIDAY, play the kid’s voicemail.”

“Hey Mr. Stark, just calling back to see if you still needed anything. Uh, guess I’ll talk to you later!” Peter’s voice came through sounding awfully cheery. 

The screwdriver fell out of Tony’s limp hand as a weight settled on his chest. 

What the hell was all this about? Where was the Peter Parker who jumped at every chance to talk to him? Who worshipped him as his own personal superhero/science god? Who was annoyingly apologetic about every imagined slight? 

“FRIDAY, replay the message,” he barked. Was the kid in distress? Drunk? Impaired in some other way?

After many replays and overanalyses, Tony had to admit that Peter was fine, he just suddenly seemed to...not care. 

Well, surely Peter just had other things going on in his life right now. He was in college now, it was to be expected. 

Tony rubbed his hand absently against his chest as that weight felt heavier. 

.

It wasn’t a one-time thing. It was hit or miss whether he’d be able to reach Peter by phone at any given moment. 

But Peter always returned any calls he missed and made sure to check in regularly on his own, which eased the sting. 

Then, six months later, Peter missed his monthly trip down to work with Tony in the lab. For a trip with his friends. Which was great, of course! Peter had friends his own age and was doing normal college things. These were all good things. Tony kept reminding himself of this fact as he sat down with some takeout at the table in the penthouse Friday evening. 

His leg bounced up and down manically as he stared down at his food. Pull yourself together, he snarled mentally. It’s not like this was different from any other day. Meetings all day, dinner by himself (if he remembered to eat), then working in the lab until he was about to collapse from exhaustion. Just another Friday. 

An hour later, he hadn’t moved from the table but neither had he eaten anything. As the light waned outside, that gnawing anguish that had been simmering in his gut was rising to engulf him. 

God, he was pathetic. All this because some kid would rather hang out with his friends having fun instead of working with a middle-aged man?

A drink sounded good right about now. 

But no, he’d quit drinking a year ago. He’d gotten rid of every hidden bottle of alcohol (with Rhodey’s aggressive help) and implanted a chip in his arm that was directly connected to FRIDAY, who would shut down all access to his facilities and contact Rhodey or Pepper if his BAC got above 0.06.

He was Tony Stark, for fuck’s sake. If he wanted company, he’d damn well have it. Therefore, he obviously didn’t need it or he wouldn’t be alone. That made sense right?

So what if Peter was the only one who was still able to maintain that level of respect and admiration even after getting to know the real Tony Stark? He may not have seen him at his worst, but he’d seen enough to send most people turning tail in disgust. But Peter still thought he was kind, that he always tried to do the right thing, even if he was a bit misguided at times. He acknowledged that Tony had flaws, big ones, but he just respected him even more for managing to overcome them (most of the time). 

Or he used to. 

Tony settled his bouncing leg again as he glanced at the clock. It was barely 8:00PM. He shot out of his chair and grabbed a hoody and sunglasses before stalking out the door. 

.

An hour later Tony was staring down at a paper bag with several handles of liquor on his kitchen counter. A glass tumbler sat next to it, ice cubes shifting as they melted. 

He picked up the bag and walked to the trash can at the end of the counter. He stared down into the empty bin then at his white-knuckled grip on the bag. 

Tony wasn’t a quitter. Well, except for quitting the alcohol in the first place. He wasn’t about to quit on quitting. He released his grip, hearing the full bottles jolt to the bottom of the bin. 

He made his way to the fridge and got a glass of water, downing it like a shot. 

His gaze pulled to the trash can but he forced it away, heading towards his lab. Nothing a few hours of mindless work won’t cure. 

.

If there was one thing that Tony knew about himself, it was that he always fucked up, no matter how good his intentions. 

It wasn’t long before he found himself digging the liquor out of the trash can, uncapping the scotch and taking a long drag straight from the bottle. He watched disinterestedly as blood trickled down his forearm from where the BAC chip used to be, before he’d gouged it out. 

The sad thing was, desperately digging through the trash for alcohol? Not the lowest point in his life. Not by far. But it’s been a long time since he’s been here. 

.

Tony was sitting on the couch when his phone chirped with the alarm he’d set to remind him to leave the lab at a somewhat decent hour on Peter weekends. But Peter wasn’t here so what the hell did he need it for? He fumbled with it, trying to shut it off, unsuccessfully. 

With a roar, he threw the phone as hard as he could at the wall. 

He watched the shattered pieces fall to the ground as he took another drink. 

.

“Tony, I’ve been calling you for hours - where the hell have - oh. God,” Rhodey gaped as he came into the penthouse, catching sight of Tony slumped on the couch. 

“Ah, yeah, bit of an incident last night,” Tony muttered, motioning towards the broken remains of his StarkPhone. 

“And I suppose you disabled alerts from FRIDAY?” he asked dryly, face hard.

Tony scoffed. “She was being annoying. ‘Do I need to call someone, sir?’ ‘You should probably stop drinking, sir’,” he mocked.

“She was right,” Rhodey said flatly. 

“I know that. That’s why it was annoying,” Tony responded, with a self-deprecating grin. He lifted a bottle of - whiskey? Maybe? - to his mouth, but Rhodey snatched it out of his hand before he could take a proper swig, causing him to slosh it down his front. “Hey!”

“You need a shower anyway, Tony. You’re disgusting,” Rhodey said, pulling him up off the couch and shoving him towards his room. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony grumbled as he shuffled off to shower. 

When Tony returned to the living room, feeling slightly more human if not still a little drunk, he found that Rhodey had already cleared away all the alcohol and was sitting at the counter. Waiting. 

“Ugh. Can we just...not?” Tony groaned. 

“Nope, that’s not an option.”

“So I fell off the wagon. Not like it’s the first time this has happened,” Tony muttered as he fell heavily into the seat next to Rhodey. 

“But why? You were doing so well, Tony. What happened?” Rhodey implored. 

Tony shrugged, looking away to stare at the clock. 

“Bullshit,” Rhodey snapped. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it!” Tony burst. 

“Yeah, well I don’t give a damn. Either you talk to me or you talk to someone else. Do you need to be under surveillance again?”

“I’m not a fucking child - I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Well you could have fooled me!”

The two sat glaring harshly at each other for several long moments before Rhodey dropped his head in his hands with a sigh. 

“Tones, I’m worried about you, man,” he said softly, rubbing his eyes. “I thought we were past this; I thought things were better.”

Tony deflated. “They were,” he insisted. 

“Until they weren’t anymore,” Rhodey finished for him. 

Tony shrugged again. 

“I just -“ Tony started, but he was cut off by a call through the penthouse. “Mr. Stark?”

Tony’s heart leapt in his chest. He scrambled to his feet. “Kid?”

Peter rounded the corner, a smile lighting up his face when he saw them. “Hey! I’m sorry I missed this weekend, Mr. Stark. I thought I’d swing by real quick on our way home though.”

Tony’s head was spinning. He felt like he could breathe a bit better now. “You’re already heading back? It’s just Saturday afternoon.”

“Mr. Stark, it’s Sunday! Have you been that busy?” He laughed. 

Peter’s smile started to fade as he took in the tense silence and the odd look on Tony’s face. “Oh. Was I interrupting something?” he asked hesitantly.

“No!” Tony practically shouted. 

Rhodey has started saying, “Actually…” but stopped abruptly to stare at Tony. 

Peter’s eyes darted uncomfortably between the two men. “Um, I’m sorry. For coming unannounced. I’ll just...head out now,” he said, pointing awkwardly at the door. 

“No, no, it’s fine. Please, stay - you know you’re welcome anytime you want. Anytime,” Tony rambled, somewhat breathless. He was getting odd stares from both sides now. 

Darting a look at Rhodey, who was still sitting stiffly and silently, Peter rubbed at the back of his head. “Ah, actually, I’ve got my, uh, friend waiting for me so I should probably get going anyway. I just wanted to say hi.”

“Your friend, huh? This the one that’s been taking you away from me?” Tony asked, tone forcibly light. 

Peter flushed. “Mr. Stark…” he trailed off, looking guilty and uncomfortable. 

“Why don’t you bring him up, Pete? We can all have lunch!” Tony said. 

Peter opened his mouth to protest again but closed it. “O-okay,” he murmured, turning around and heading back for the door.

As soon as they heard it close, Rhodey turned to Tony incredulously. “What. The fuck. Was that?”

“What? I was just being nice,” he replied nonchalantly as he sat back down. There was a feeling of elation tingling through his veins.

“Nice? That’s what you thought that was? I’ve never seen Peter more uncomfortable. And that’s saying something!”

“Yeah, because you were being incredibly rude! You kept glaring at him.”

“I was glaring at you, numbnuts. Because I thought you were trying to get out of this  _ very important   _ conversation,” Rhodey clarified. “Although now I’m thinking there’s more to it than that.”

“Oh give it a rest already, would you?” Tony scoffed, standing up again and circling around the island. 

“‘This the one that’s taking you away from me’ Tony? Really, did you think that was subtle?” Rhodey asked. 

Tony didn’t answer, concentrating hard on grabbing a glass and filling it with water. 

“It’s a good thing he has his own life, outside of all this superhero bullshit.”

“I know that; I want him to have that. I do,” Tony insisted.

“I mean, I guess it’s somewhat normal for parents to feel a bit abandoned when their kids start having their own life. But he’s not your kid, Tony.”

“Uh, yeah, that’s definitely not a problem. I’m no one’s father, and quite happy about that fact. At least not that I’m aware of,” Tony said, eyebrows waggling.

Rhodey rolled his eyes. “Okay, then what’s your hang up with Parker?”

Tony was silent for a long moment. Too long, it turned out, because Peter was walking back into the room, friend in tow. 

“So, this is my, um, friend, Harry,” Peter introduced, gesturing to the tall, dark-headed kid next to him.  “And this is Mr. Stark and Colonel Rhodes,” he finished, indicating the men across the kitchen.

Harry came towards them, hand outstretched and smile wide.  “Wow, it’s so great to meet both of you! I’ve heard so much!”

Tony and Rhodey both reached out to shake the boy’s hand.  “Well, you know you can only believe half of what you hear, at the most,” Tony said teasingly.

“Of course, of course,” Harry laughed obligingly, nodding.

“So, what were you boys up to this weekend?” Rhodey questioned.

“Oh, well my parents have a place over near Rochester.  It’s kind of a long drive, but I’ve been wanting to take Peter and we finally had a free weekend where we weren’t completely swamped. So we….” Harry continued talking, but all Tony heard was static as the boy stepped back to Peter’s side and put a casual hand at the small of his back, like it just belonged there.  

Tony’s aimed to collapse into his chair when his knees started feeling a little wobbly.  But he missed, and barely caught himself before falling flat on his ass. “Fuck,” he mumbled, levering himself into his chair properly.  It took him almost a full minute to realize that the conversation had stopped and...yep, everyone was staring at him again.

Peter was looking at him with a mixture of concern and secondhand embarrassment.  “Are you okay, Mr. Stark?”

“Oh, yeah, just peachy.  Just, ah, think it’s been a while since I’ve eaten anything.”  Which was true. Since apparently it was Sunday and he drank all of Saturday away.  

“Oh, let me make you something to eat,” Peter insisted, rushing around into the kitchen until Rhodey laid a hand on his arm.

“I’ve got it, Peter.  Stay out here with your guest.  Tony, do you even have any food in this place?” Rhodey called as he rounded the kitchen island.

“Uhhhh,” Tony answered eloquently.  He had no idea.

“Good God, Tony,” Rhodey grumbled, going to check the fridge.  Tony could see over his shoulder that it was pleasantly full. Ah, right, it was supposed to be a Peter weekend, so he would have had someone stock the kitchen.

“Looks like we’ve got the stuff for a stir fry.  That’d be easy, if that sounds good to everyone?” Rhodey announced.  After a chorus of affirmations, he started pulling everything he needed out of the fridge and the pantry.  

“So, how’s school going?” Tony asked into the still somewhat awkward silence.

Peter brightened as he started telling him all about his classes and the projects he was working on.  “And Harry’s been a huge help! He had most of my professors last year so he’s been able to give me a lot of pointers,” Peter gushed, looking up at Harry brightly.  Harry grinned back and laid a hand on Peter’s hip.

Tony felt like he’d been stabbed in the gut.  So he really had been replaced, in every way. This boy was his new mentor, his new friend, his new crush, which apparently was requited.  Was there anything left for Tony? That weight settled back on his chest, compressing his lungs and choking the breath out of him.

When his vision refocused, he noticed Peter was looking at him to contribute something to the conversation.  “That...that’s great, kid. I’m glad everything is going so well for you,” Tony said with a small smile.  _ Without me _ he thought, rubbing at his chest like that would help.

Rhodey finished up lunch shortly after that and they all sat down at the table to eat.  Tony hardly heard any of the conversation, too busy watching Peter watch Harry. 

Peter insisted on clearing everyone’s plates when they were finished.  He came back with a stiff smile on his face. “Well we should probably be heading out.  Harry, would you mind waiting for me downstairs? I’ve got a few things I need to talk to Mr. Stark about.”

“Yeah, of course, Peter.  It was really nice meeting you guys!” he called as he left.

Peter sat back down at the table as Rhodey got up to walk to the bathroom.  “You were drinking again,” he said quietly, looking at Tony with agonized eyes.

“No, I wasn’t,” he immediately rebuked.  “I’m just feeling a little under the weather.”

“I saw the bottles in the trash, Mr. Stark.”

Tony looked away.  “You never told me you got yourself a boyfriend,” he shot back.

“It’s...new.  And, honestly, I didn’t think you cared about stuff like that,” Peter responded, shrugging.

“How could you think I don’t care about  _ anything _ about you?” Tony asked beseechingly.  “I…” he trailed off and covered his mouth when he realized what he’d been about to say.  “Shit, sorry, I’m still a little drunk.”

Peter gave him a puzzled look, having a hard time following Tony’s jumps in the ‘conversation.’  “Yeah, about that. Is-is this...my fault? Are you drinking because of me?”

Tony couldn’t stand the cautious, hurt look on Peter’s face.  “No, no sweetheart, it’s not your fault.” Tony grabbed his hand across the table.  “You know you’re not responsible for me, right?” he implored.

“But you’ve taken such good care of me all these years and I-I wanna return the favor.”

Tony shook his head.  “No, kid, I didn’t do anything I’ve done expecting something in return.  Even though I’m not making the best case for it now, I’m the adult here, you know,” he said with a crooked grin.

“But I’m an adult now too, Mr. Stark.  Why shouldn’t I help you if I can?” Peter insisted.

“You do help me, just by being around.”

“Well, then I’ll come by more often,” Peter responded firmly.

Tony sat back in his chair, letting go of Peter’s hand and taking a drink to buy himself a moment.  He wanted that. He wanted it so bad, his bones ached with it. He grit his teeth and took a deep breath before he acted like the adult he claimed he was.  “No, Peter. You’ve got school and friends. And a boyfriend now! Look at you! You’re only in college for a few years - take full advantage of it. Keep your priorities straight.”

“But Mr. Stark…” Peter said desperately.  

“I’m a big boy, Pete, I can take care of myself.  And I’ve got Rhodey, he knows how to handle my sorry ass.  I may be a little rough right now, but I’ll be fine. Now go get your boyfriend, you should probably get back on the road before it gets too late,” Tony said as he stood up. 

Peter followed his lead as Tony walked him to the door.  “I miss you, Mr. Stark,” he whispered before throwing his arms around Tony.

Tony felt his expression crumble as he hesitantly returned the hug.  “I miss you, too, kid.” He had to clench his teeth together to stop himself from saying anything else.

Peter finally pulled back with a wobbly smile.  “Okay, well, I’ll see you in a couple weeks, right?” he said as he opened the door.

“Yeah, of course.  Drive safe, Pete.”

“Always do!” Peter responded with a wave before turning around and leaving.

Rhodey came out of the hallway as Tony laid his hand on the door, leaning heavily against it.

“Jesus, Tony.  When did this happen?” Rhodey asked softly.

Tony gave a humorless laugh.  “I don’t fucking know. I didn’t realize how much I...needed him until suddenly he didn’t need  _ me _ anymore.”

“What do you mean, you need him?” Tony asked cautiously.

Tony shook his head.  “You don’t want to know,” he said lowly.

“Just tell me, man.”

Tony was silent for several minutes before he snarled, “I need him to need me, to idolize me, to  _ want _ me.  I need to be the center of his fucking universe.”

“That’s fucked up,” Rhodey finally said.

Tony snorted.  “Don’t I know it.  I’m not a good person, everyone knows this.”

“But then why did you send him away?  He would have stayed,” Rhodey said.

Tony looked at him incredulously.  “Seriously? Why would you encourage this?”

“I’m not.  Just trying to figure this shit out.  If you’re such an egotistical, selfish bastard, why’d you do that?”  Rhody reasoned.

“You really don’t want to know that one,” Tony said, sitting down on the couch with his head in his hands.

Rhodey studied him.  “Dammit, Tony. Are you serious?  You’re more than twice his age!”

“Oh fuck off, Rhodey.  Why do you think I’ve been drinking myself stupid?  I didn’t even fully realize it until this weekend. You know I’m an idiot when it comes to...feelings,” he said, spitting out the word like it was a curse.  He thought of what he’d almost said to Peter at the table earlier.  _ I love you. _  Fuck.

“Well,” Rhodey sighed, “you did the right thing.”  He sat on the couch next to Tony, clapping him on the shoulder.

“So, now what?” Rhodey ventured after several minutes of heavy silence.

Tony rubbed at his chest as he sat back with a sigh.  “I fuck up, pick myself up, and move on. Hope there are enough broken pieces left to put together.”

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Peter was testing Tony’s very limited capacity to be a good person.

He really should have seen this coming - Peter may be an obedient puppy dog most of the time, but if he thought Tony’s orders got in the way of solving a problem he had the capacity to fix, then he could be a stubborn, sneaky shit.

Despite his insistence that Peter not concern himself with Tony’s problems, Peter was suddenly much more present in his life. Which was its own unique form of torture. He couldn’t exactly refuse his requests to talk on the phone or come down to the lab after being so adamant about him being welcome anytime. But the closer they became again, the more intense his attachment (read: obsession) got.

Tony was still trying to get a handle on his twisted possessive streak for his protege. He was adamant in his insistence to Rhodey that day that his feelings toward Peter weren’t romantic or sexual. And he was…pretty sure this was true. It was just very unhealthy.

Other mentors felt this way about their favorite students, right? Granted, Tony was a bit unorthodox in just about every way, but…

Speak of the Devil, and he shall appear, Tony thought wryly as he saw Peter entering the kitchen.

“There you are, Mr. Stark,” Peter said with a tired smile.

“Here I am,” Tony parroted back, gesturing to himself before leaning back against the island, a glass of water in hand. He set the glass down on the counter and stepped forward when he actually looked at Peter and noticed his expression.

“Hey, what’s going on, Pete? You alright?” he asked, setting a hand on Peter’s shoulder as he crouched a bit to try to catch his lowered gaze.

Peter dragged his eyes up to meet Tony’s and just stared at him, looking lost and frustrated. “Ughhh,” he groaned, pitching forward to rest his forehead on Tony’s shoulder. “It’s stupid,” he mumbled into Tony’s t-shirt.

Tony was concentrating hard on being able to breathe normally as the hand on Peter’s shoulder slowly slid to cup the back of Peter’s neck. “If it’s got you this upset, kid, it’s not stupid. Well, okay, it could be, but I’m willing to pretend it’s not since you’re my favorite,” he amended, his mouth twitching when he got the small huff of a laugh he’d hoped for.

Peter was quiet for another long moment before he finally said, “I just…I wonder if it’s even possible to have a meaningful relationship. I mean, as a superhero. Especially since I’m keeping my identity secret, it’s a prerequisite that I’ll be lying about a huge part of my life to whoever I’m with and that’s just not working for me.”

Tony sighed as his other hand came up to card through Peter’s hair. “Well, you won’t always have to keep your identity a secret. You’re planning on a big ‘coming out’ after college, right?” Peter snorted and nodded. “Until then, just have fun. And if you happen to find the right person, maybe you can tell them a little earlier if it’s really causing problems.”

“But even after other people know, I don’t know if it will work. I already have a hard time relating these parts of my life with May and Ned and MJ. They get it but they don’t get it, you know?” Peter said, sounding frustrated.

“Yeah, yeah I know,” Tony answered quietly. He knew too well. It was the biggest part of why he and Pepper couldn’t keep it together.

Peter huffed. “So, what do I do?”

“I’m still trying to figure that out myself,” Tony replied a little too honestly.

Peter stepped forward fully into Tony’s space, arms coming around Tony’s waist in a hug. Tony’s hand spasmed in a tight grip to the back to Peter’s neck. He almost missed Peter’s soft inhale of breath as he shifted his own arms to pull Peter tight against him.

“I’m glad I have you, Mr. Stark,” Peter said softly, his breath tickling Tony’s neck.

“Always, sweetheart,” he murmured, hoping Peter couldn’t feel how hard his heart was pounding between them.

.

Tony wasn’t proud to admit it, but he’d hoped that after all that, it would mean that Peter had broken off whatever he had going on with that Harry kid. Not so, apparently.

But he kept up his attempts at being the best mentor he could, giving Peter his honest advice even when that sour twisting in his stomach intensified at every mention of his relationship. It was worth it for the grateful smiles he got in return.

One thing did change - Peter hugged him all the time now.  When Peter got to the compound, when he would leave the compound to go back to school, when they’d part ways to go to bed, sometimes for no discernible reason at all.  Usually, it was just a quick thing, a greeting.  But sometimes, Peter would wrap him up tight and not let go, grasp just short of painful as he sighed into Tony’s shoulder and the tension drained from his body.  

Tony lived for these short moments, where he could feel the boy warm and solid in his arms, smell the cheap shampoo in his hair.  Sometimes it was even enough.

But Tony used this as a doorway to being more tactile himself, to which Peter appeared to have no objection.  Then again, he’d always been grabbing Peter’s shoulder and getting into his space, so maybe Peter just didn’t even notice.  

The feeling of elation that sparked through him the first time he laid his hand on the small of Peter’s back and Peter just turned his head to look at him and smiled…it was pathetic, he knew it.  

It fueled his obsession, started eroding at his flimsy self-control.  Soon, Tony found himself gravitating towards Peter constantly; crowding him against the table or the counter, making himself a permanent fixture in Peter’s space as often as possible, flitting touches to his back, his neck, his hip.  It was a gradual process, careful as he was to not scare him away.

Even though his heart raced and his palms started sweating at the thought of Peter pushing him away in discomfort, he couldn’t stop.  Every time Peter let him closer, after the initial dizzying euphoria, Tony just wanted more.

.

“I’m sorry, say that again?” Tony said over the phone. He knew exactly what Peter had said, but he needed to buy himself a bit of time to school his reaction.

“I was just asking if I could bring Harry over again when I come Friday night. But I totally get it if that’s not okay!” Peter blurted nervously.

After a silence that was perhaps a beat too long, Tony replied, “Yeah, sure, kid. We don’t have any urgent projects, so that’s no problem.”

He could hear the smile in Peter’s voice when he responded. “Thanks Mr. Stark! This is gonna be so awesome!”

Tony consciously relaxed his white-knuckled grip on his chair. “For sure, yeah. Hey, Pete, hate to run but I gotta get back to…a thing.”

“Oh-oh yeah, of course, sorry Mr. Stark. I’ll see you this weekend. And thanks again!” he gushed.

Tony quickly closed out the phone call, head slamming back into his chair and eyes staring aimlessly at the ceiling. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Why was this still so hard? Peter had been seeing this guy for three months now so he should be used to it. And Peter’s interactions with Tony were almost completely back to normal.

Whatever. He pushed back from the table and looked around the lab, seeing the hood up on one of his cars in the corner. Getting elbow deep in engine parts sounded like a pretty good distraction right about now.

.

He was wrong. He was staring at an empty bottle of whiskey before the night was over.

.

Tony dreaded and longed in equal measure for Friday (and Peter) to come.

He’d been talking himself all day through proper ways to interact with Peter’s guest: don’t go overboard on the snarking, don’t ignore him completely, don’t try to glare holes into his skull, don’t punch him in the face anytime he looks at or touches Peter. Those were pretty basic rules of interaction - no problem. Because Tony Stark was known for his tact and handling people he didn’t like with grace and aplomb. Right.

He was in the lab when Friday announced, “Sir, Mr. Parker and his guest have arrived.”

Tony straightened, pinching the bridge of his nose before grunting, “Alright, tell him to come on down.”

“Understood, sir,” Friday replied.  

A few minutes later, Tony’s heart skipped a beat when he saw the bright smile on Peter’s face as he walked in.  “Mr. Stark!  Hey!”

“Hey there, kiddo.  Good trip?” he asked.

“Yeah!  Thanks again for letting me use the jet to get here - makes it so much easier,” Peter gushed, as he did every time he came since Tony had gotten that bright idea.  Tony felt a sliver of guilt because it was really for selfish reasons that he was intent on making it as easy as possible for Peter to get here.  But it was easily swamped by the flood of smug pride that came with showing how well he could provide for Peter.

“Yeah, dude, that was so awesome!  I’ve never been on a private plane before!”  Tony had to work to keep from scowling at the sound of Harry’s voice.  “And this lab!  Mr. Stark, this is incredible!”  Indeed, Harry was looking around in awe at all the projects in progress littered around the room.  Well, at least he could appreciate Tony’s awesomeness.

“Well, since you’re not an employee and don’t technically have clearance to be here, perhaps we’d better move this party back upstairs,” Tony said, with a tight smile straining the muscles in his face.  

Seeing the anxious look cross Peter’s face and knowing an apology was about to come pouring out of his opening mouth, Tony continued with a wink, “But maybe I can sneak you in a little later after dinner if you’re still interested.”

The relieved smile that Peter sent his way made it worth the effort.  It would be easier to distract and entertain them in the lab anyway.

It was only as they’d all turned to leave that Tony’s steps faltered.  Peter hadn’t given him his welcome back hug.  His thumb rubbed absently at his chest as he resumed walking.

.

Watching Peter’s and Harry’s easy interactions was his own personal brand of hell.  

As they sat and chatted in the living room, they took a seat on the couch opposite Tony, Harry’s fingers brushing against Peter’s shoulder from where his hand was hanging off the back of the couch.  Peter rested a hand against Harry’s thigh when he laughed at something he’d said.  But seeing as how they were both perfectly courteous and friendly, including Tony in all their conversations and asking him questions, Tony couldn’t find a plausible reason to complain.

When Friday finally announced that their dinner had arrived, Tony jumped at the chance to escape the happy couple for a few minutes.  “Thank God,” he muttered under his breath as he made his way to the kitchen.

He was so focused on putting all his concentration into getting the styrofoam containers out of their bags that he almost jumped when Peter came up next to him.

“Smells good.  Need any help?” Peter questioned.

Tony couldn’t resist pressing his hand to Peter’s hip for a long moment before nudging him towards the fridge.  “Nah, I’ve got this.  Why don’t you grab a couple drinks?”

Peter nodded before shuffling off that direction.  As Tony was looking down to finish getting the food together, he caught Harry’s eyes on him, watching.  Open floorplans meant no secrets.  Although it’s not like he did anything wrong.

He shook his head and brought the food to the table where Harry was sitting.  

“Bon Appetit,” he drawled as he laid out the containers.

“So the great billionaire Tony Stark entertains guests with Chinese takeout?” Harry remarked with a crooked smile.

Tony’s eyebrows shot up.  “Excuse me?  Not good enough for you, princess?” he shot back.

Harry flushed lightly.  “No, of course not, sorry, that was rude.”

Before Tony could respond, Peter cut in as he came back with the promised drinks.  “Don’t worry about it, Mr. Stark’s just joking.  He tends to get snarky when he hasn’t eaten.”

“Only when I haven’t eaten?” Tony replied skeptically.

Peter rolled his eyes and firmly laid a bottle of soda in front of him with a pointed look.  Come on!  Like he was going to drink himself to death when Peter was actually here?  Tony rolled his own eyes back as he cracked open the top.

Peter dug in with a muted groan.  “Dude, isn’t this the best Chinese takeout ever though?”

Tony aimed a smug grin at Harry before starting in on his own portion.

.

Two hours later, after a full tour of the facilities and the lab, the trio sat back at the table for ice cream.

“Harry, you’re welcome to use the jet to get back home any time you’d like,” Tony mentioned.

Peter shifted nervously.  “Actually, Mr. Stark, we were thinking he’d just stay here with me this weekend.  There’s still so much I want to show him.”

Tony stiffened, every muscle in his body locking up.  “Sure, Pete.  Whatever you want.  Not like we don’t have the space,” he joked woodenly.

Tony could tell by the shared look between them that there was no intention of Harry using a separate room.  Fuck, he was not prepared for this.  Why was he not prepared for this?  They were all adults; it was objectively the most reasonable conclusion here.  

He pushed back from the table and stood up abruptly.  Both boys stared at him as he stood there gripping his bowl.  “Right, well I’ll get out of your hair for tonight.  You know where everything is, kid, help yourself,” he said unnecessarily as he turned to place his bowl in the sink.

He heard the screech of a chair, then Peter was at his shoulder.  “What’s wrong?  Are you alright, Mr. Stark?” he asked warily.

“Heartburn,” Tony muttered.  “You know how us old guys are with our crippling heartburn.”  Heartburn indeed.

Peter snorted.  “Right.”  He shuffled his feet.  “Well, I really do appreciate you letting us hang out here.  I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than hang out with a couple college kids.”

“Not if one of those college kids is you, Pete,” he said with a shrug and a heavy pat to Peter’s shoulder.

Peter looked up at him for a long moment before stepping forward and wrapping his arms around Tony’s shoulders.  “Thanks anyway, Mr. Stark.”

Tony snaked his arms around Peter’s waist, turning his head to the side to nose lightly at Peter’s neck.  He was holding him tightly enough that he felt the faint shiver run through Peter’s body at the sensation.  But Peter didn’t pull away.  It made his blood roar in his head.  He suddenly wanted to bite that perfect, pale skin, hard.  Leave a mark.  His mark.

He closed his eyes and made himself pull back.  Peter’s eyes were still pinned on him in that earnest way he had that made Tony want to keep him to himself.  Before he realized what he was doing, his hand was carding through Peter’s hair softly.  He quickly turned it into a hair ruffle as he said gruffly, “Yeah, yeah, go play with your friend now, kid.”

As if he’d been waiting for Tony’s permission, Peter smiled wryly at him before turning back to the table.

Tony watched him walk off, catching Harry’s gaze again over Peter’s shoulder.  Tony could see the calculating look in his eyes and the tightened jaw before it melted away as Peter approached.

.

Tony felt like he was going to burst out of his skin.  Knowing that Peter and his boyfriend could be doing anything (everything) in his own house made him feel like he was going insane.

He couldn’t stop his brain from envisioning snippets of what they could be doing.  It was too easy to imagine what Peter would look like, breathless from deep kisses, a flush spreading from his face down his chest as hands ran down his body, mouth wide open and panting as he-

Tony realized with growing horror that he was getting hard.  Fuck.  Fuck, fuck, fuck.  No, he didn’t have sexual feelings for Peter.  It wasn’t like that.  He just…wanted to own him.  In every way, shape, and form.  Fuck.

On his next round of pacing through his suite, he found himself in front of the stash of alcohol that he’d moved in here the day before.  He’d promised that he wouldn’t drink when Peter was here, and he’d been keeping to that with minimal struggle until now.  

But just a few fingers of bourbon would help him chill out.  He wouldn’t get drunk.

.

Tony didn’t realize how far he’d gone until he heard the door to his living area slide open and Peter walked in.  “Shit,” he muttered, sitting up.

“Mr. Stark?  I’m sorry to bother you, I just wanted to-” Peter cut off and his lips pressed into a thin, hard line.

“What the fuck?” Peter snapped.

“Language,” Tony said absently.

“Seriously?  I know you call me a kid all the time, but you realize I’m not actually one, right?”

“Oh, yes, I know, believe me,” Tony groused, recalling the thoughts he’d been trying to drown out.  Definitely not things he would have been thinking about a child.

“Then stop treating me like one!  And why the hell are you drinking anyway?”

Tony pushed to his feet.  “Now you listen here.  Young man.” he started, pointing his finger in Peter’s direction.  “I am an adult in my own damn house.  I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

“Yeah, well I thought we were friends, and friends do need to answer to each other when they’ve fucked up,” Peter shot back.

Tony scoffed.  “So I had a drink, so what?  I’m not hurting myself or anyone else.  I’m not even drunk!”

“You’re swaying.  And I can smell the alcohol on you.  It wasn’t just a drink, Mr. Stark.”

Damn spider senses.  “Well, congratulations, Detective Parker.  But it’s still not your problem.”

“Why can’t you just talk to me?  You don’t normally do this when I’m here,” Peter said, frustrated.  “Or-or do you?”

Tony was shaking his head.  “Of course not, never when you’re here.”

Peter gestured at him incredulously.

“Well, never until now of course,” he allowed.

“I thought that having me around helped.  That’s what you said before.  Is that…not true?” Peter asked, looking surprisingly vulnerable.

Tony found himself stepping closer.  “It does, sweetheart, it really really does.  But that fucking-” Tony gathered his wits back before spitting out the insults he wanted to fling at that stupid boyfriend of his.

“Is it Harry?  I mean, I’d wondered if maybe you didn’t like him that much - you two seem to butt heads a lot.  You act like you’re being nice, but I can tell.  But you really hate him that much?  We can leave if it’s bothering you that much.”

“No, no, don’t leave.  It’s not that I don’t like him, necessarily…” Tony trailed off, trying to find something to say that wasn’t an outright lie.

“You guys are just too similar,” Peter said with a roll of his eyes.

“Excuse me?” Tony sputtered.  

Peter ignored him and went towards the alcohol stash that was now in plain sight, intent on getting rid of it.

Tony grabbed Peter’s wrist before he could get far.  “Are you gonna fuck him?  In my house?” he growled, the question escaping before he’d even realized he’d wanted to ask it.

Peter stared at him, aghast.  “Mr. Stark, that’s out of line.  And none of your business.”

“None of my business?  It’s my house!  And you’re-” he cut himself off, gritting his teeth.

“I’m what?  Just a kid?  You’d been having sex for years when you were my age, so I don’t want to hear it,” Peter said with a glare.

“That’s not- Whatever, just forget it.  You’re right, it’s none of my business.  I’m drunk.”  Tony sighed and dropped back down onto his couch, burying his face in his hands.

Peter tentatively sat next to him, hand resting lightly on Tony’s back.  “You know I…wouldn't do that, right?  I don’t think I even could if I wanted to - it’d be way too weird.”

Tony chuckled.  “Like having sex with your parents next door?”

Peter’s head tilted side to side consideringly.  “Not exactly what I was thinking, but yeah, sure.”

Tony desperately wanted to know what Peter had meant instead, but he kept his mouth shut.  He’d crossed enough lines today.

After a long moment of silence, Peter asked, “Would it make you feel better if we slept in different rooms?”

“Yes,” Tony said immediately, knowing it was the wrong thing to say.

“Why?” Peter asked curiously.

The words crowded up Tony’s throat, unwilling to be restrained.  “I can’t stand the thought of him touching you.  I can barely handle him looking at you like he does.”

He heard Peter’s sharp inhale.  “Like-like how?”

“Like he owns you,” Tony said bitterly.

“Maybe I like it that he looks at me that way,” Peter said quietly.

Tony was shaking with how much he wanted to lay hands on Peter.  “You want to be owned by that boy?” he scoffed.

“Do I have another option?” Peter asked shakily.

Tony turned towards him fully, hand coming up to wrap around the back of Peter’s neck.  “Always, sweetheart.  You can have anything you want.  Everything.” ***

Peter’s lips parted, breaths heaving lightly as his eyes met Tony’s.

Tony blinked before standing abruptly, breaking the tension.  He stumbled blindly to the cart in the corner housing his collection of tumblers, grabbing the edges in a white-knuckled grip.  “You-” Tony rasped.  He cleared his throat.  “You should probably be heading back.  

He heard Peter’s soft footsteps come closer and found himself holding his breath.  

“I’m sorry for not hugging you when I got here this afternoon, Mr. Stark.”

Tony’s breath escaped in a whoosh, like he’d been punched in the gut.  His grip relaxed and he turned towards Peter.  “Pete,” he began but cut off as Peter collided into his chest, arms clenched tight around his torso.

Tony was helpless to do anything but return the desperate embrace.  One hand buried itself in Peter’s soft hair while the other found where Peter’s shirt had ridden up.  He shoved it up further, fingers gripping hard and hot like a brand on the bare skin of Peter’s lower back.

Peter gasped softly and shuddered, lips brushing dryly where his face was pressed against Tony’s neck.  Tony groaned and swayed, leaning heavily against the cart behind him. Peter stumbled and fell against him, between his legs.  

Tony’s heart was pounding, his head throbbing as his blood rushed south.  Fuck.  Fuck, he was too drunk for this.  He gathered the strength to break the embrace, pushing Peter back gently.  

“It’s late,” Tony said, averting his eyes.  “You should be getting to bed.”

He couldn’t bring himself to look up at Peter’s face as he stood there quietly before taking a deep breath.  “Yeah, yeah.  Of course.  But there’s something I’ve gotta do before I go.”

Tony’s heart jumped at the declaration as Peter moved closer again until he noticed him reaching around him.  Right.  The alcohol.  Of course Peter wasn’t going to leave him with that.

Peter made his way to the door of the suite, arms full of bottles.  “Well, goodnight Mr. Stark.  Please try to get some sleep,” he said with a shrug before making his way out.

Tony leaned back wearily against the wall, sliding down to sit in a heap on the floor as he ran a shaky hand over his face.  What the hell had just happened?

.

Peter obviously wasn’t used to dealing with alcoholics if he thought that was the only alcohol around Tony’s room.  

It wasn’t long before he’d finally drunk enough to drown out his guilt for the thoughts he couldn’t get out of his head, passing out in the process.  

He was still sprawled across the couch come morning, never noticing Peter entering his rooms again and his resigned expression.  He didn’t even budge when Peter had a conversation with Friday for several minutes before leaving and returning shortly, jostling Tony around a bit before picking him up gently and moving him into bed.

He finally woke up around noon, lying motionless and staring at the ceiling before coming to a decision.  He couldn’t be here anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, it'll probably be about a month before the next part comes out. Don't have a ton of personal time for writing unfortunately.
> 
> So when I was writing this, the ending originally came out very different. Y'all, I just seem to desperately want Tony to suffer, no happy ending. So if you're interested at all in making our poor boy suffer with me, the short alternate ending (which would have been The End) is below, continuing from the asterisks towards the end of this chapter.  
> *******  
> Peter didn’t resist when Tony tugged him forward.  Before their lips met, Peter whispered, “What if what I want is to be with Harry?”
> 
> Tony froze.  He pushed Peter back and away from him, with a little more force than he intended.  The guilty, uncomfortable expression on Peter’s face felt like a red-hot welding iron piercing through him.  “Then-” he rasped.  He cleared his throat.  “Then I hope you can be happy with him.”  He got up and stumbled blindly over to the cart in the corner, grabbing one of his abandoned tumblers before tossing back the contents.
> 
> “Mr. Stark-”
> 
> “I think you should go, kid,” Tony said, still facing away from him.
> 
> “But-”
> 
> “Please!” Tony pleaded, voice embarrassingly thin.  “I’ll be fine, I just need some time to myself.  Please.”
> 
> He listened to the footsteps crossing the room and the door to his suite opening and closing softly before he collapsed forward, grabbing his chest and feeling like he was drowning.

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be an angstsy one shot but I’ve decided to continue it. The next part is almost done btw.   
> But! If you like angsty bs like I do, feel free to stop here!
> 
> Another note: if you read this on tumblr, you’ll have noticed I changed the omc to be Harry. Just was annoyed having to write about a rando omc for longer whenever I decided to continue. Hopefully I caught all the name changes?


End file.
